Incognito
by Silver Bee
Summary: When trouble strikes a London nightclub, International Rescue are there to save the day. Aren't they...?
1. Chapter 1

_This is a (very) belated birthday present for beadbird and a thank you for all the support she's given me this last year._

Chapter One

Brains had been in a lot of difficult, unpleasant and downright dangerous situations since joining forces with the Tracys to set up International Rescue, yet he'd rarely felt as uncomfortable as he did that night.

He and Tin-Tin had been in London for the past few days, presenting some new designs to Jeff Tracy's people in Britain. That part of the trip he'd enjoyed. Despite being the most nervous of men, prone to stuttering and blushing uncontrollably when he found himself the centre of attention, when he got into his stride and started talking about one of his prototypes, he lost his inhibitions, forgot where he was and gave a good account of himself. Plus, he knew these people well, knew he commanded their respect and didn't feel he had to prove himself, nor that he'd be found wanting. All in all, he'd enjoyed himself. It was such a shame it had had to end this way...

Just a couple of hours ago he and Tin-Tin had been in their hotel rooms preparing for an evening out with Lady Penelope. He'd been looking forward to it - the perfect way to end his trip. Tin-Tin, too, had been excited, all the more so since she'd decided that a completely new outfit would be required. Whereas Brains had returned to the hotel after his work was done and got straight down to work with John on some upgrades to Five's communications network, she had hit the shops, returning each day with so many bags that Brains wondered how they'd fit them all in the jet when they left.

When the girl had appeared in the lounge they shared, slowly twirled around and asked Brains what he thought, the man had been even more tongue-tied than usual. How could he tell her she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen? She was Alan Tracy's girlfriend, and even if she'd been single, she was way out of his league. Not that Brains thought he actually had a league - he was terrified of any woman who wasn't a work colleague. Not that he had any interest in any of them. How could any of them compare to the woman standing in front of him?

Fortunately, Tin-Tin didn't seem to mind his inarticulate response, too busy tweaking her hair and admiring her shoes with their - to Brains, at least - impossibly high heels. It was just as well Parker would be picking them up in FAB1, he thought, and that they'd be sitting down at the dinner table for most of the evening. If any walking was involved he'd probably have to carry Tin-Tin home - and the thought made him turn scarlet.

"Are you alright, Brains?" Tin-Tin asked. "You look a bit flushed."

Brains was saved from replying by the vibration of his watch. "L-Lady Penelope," he announced, relieved to think that in a few minutes he'd have Penny and Parker to distract him from Tin-Tin.

But it didn't work out that way. As soon as he activated the tiny vid-screen, he knew their plans were about to change. The normally immaculate Lady Penelope was decidedly dishevelled, her hair a mess and her face smeared with blotches of what looked like ash.

"Brains, darling, I'm so sorry - I'm going to have to cancel our plans for tonight. I'm afraid a situation arose this afternoon. MI5, so you'll understand that I can't give you too many details. I was hoping it would all be over and done with by now, but it turned out to be a little more complicated than I was anticipating. I- Oh, do excuse me, Brains."

She disappeared from view for a moment, her cry of: _Parker, look out! Get off him, you ruffian! quickly followed by the sounds of a fight, then a body hitting the ground. Tin-Tin and Brains stared at each other anxiously for a moment, until Penny reappeared, her hair even more of a mess._

"I'm terribly sorry. Really, my manners are quite dreadful this evening. Letting you both down like this, it's unforgivable."

"We understand, Penny." It was Tin-Tin who replied, catching hold of Brain's arm to manoeuvre his watch towards her and completely failing to notice that he was blushing again. "You concentrate on whatever you're doing. Don't worry about us."

"I'll make it up to you. Ascot? Or Henley, maybe? I don't think you've been to either."

"Ascot would be wonderful," Tin-Tin smiled, already thinking of new outfits. "Brains, what do you think?"

Brains shrugged. He didn't think either sounded much fun, not when he could be back in his lab where the most complicated fashion choice he had to make each day was whether or not to change into a fresh lab coat.

"Take care, Penny," Tin-Tin said, and Brains echoed the sentiments before ending the call.

Tin-Tin sank onto one of the sofas and sighed. "That's a shame. I was looking forward to a night out."

Brains was already loosening his tie. "D-do you w-want to order r-room service or go d-down to the r-restaurant?"

Tin-Tin was silent for a moment, staring at her shoes again. Then she looked up at him, and Brains, knew from the way she gazed at him so appealingly, that he was in trouble.

"What I really want to do," she said. "Is go out. There's a new club I've been hearing about. I'd love to give it a try. What do you think, Brains?"

Brains thought it was his idea of hell. He was the last man in the world to want to spend an evening in a nightclub. But Tin-Tin had been looking forward to a night out in London and she'd got all dressed up. Not to mention that now she had her head turned to the side and was staring at him all wide-eyed and hopeful...

What he wanted to say was, "Not a chance." What he heard himself saying was, "A-Alright. M-maybe just for a-an hour or t-two."

The smile he got in return made him think the hell he was about to endure might just be worth it.

* * *

Tin-Tin felt only the tiniest bit of remorse at dragging Brains out. It would do him good, she thought, as they sat in their taxi. Okay, so she'd really gone for it with the puppy-dog eyes, knowing he'd cave, but he'd worked so hard, not just during the London trip, but in the weeks leading up to it. He hardly ever left Tracy Island, and when he did, it was for work, not pleasure. He needed a complete break, and she'd see to it that, even if he didn't think he was going to enjoy this, he'd have a good time.

She needed a break too, anyway. She'd worked equally as hard on the presentation they'd made, enjoying the chance to be an engineer rather than a combined secretary/nurse/lab assistant as she was on Tracy Island. Not that she'd change anything, of course. Being part of International Rescue was worth all the sacrifices she made, giving up the kind of life she'd love to lead. If only she could have a night out like this every week, the way most people did. She just wished Alan could have been with her... He'd tried to get permission to come along, but his father - her boss - had made it clear this was a business trip. Alan would only get bored stuck in the hotel all day while she and Brains went to work, and a bored Alan was just asking for trouble. No, it was probably better the way it was. It was such a shame about missing a night out with Penny, though. Tin-Tin loved the woman's company, not to mention the access she offered to the more exclusive London nightspots. The last time they'd been out, several months ago, Tin-Tin had actually got to meet the King! Still, there would be plenty more opportunities for them to meet up, and at least she wasn't going to waste this new outfit, not to mention all the time she'd spent perfecting her hair and make-up.

She glanced across at Brains, sitting rigidly, his heavy coat buttoned up to his neck. The British summertime might be once again failing to live up to the name, but it wasn't that bad, not even when you'd been living on a tropical island. She hadn't bothered with a coat herself, not wanting to spoil the impact she'd make when she stepped out of the taxi in her new dress.

Sure enough, heads turned when Tin-Tin got out of the taxi. The doorman, a short, muscle-bound man who would probably rip the seams of his tuxedo if he had to swing his arms for a punch, rushed to help her out, pausing to stare in disbelief at Brains as he came round from the other side to join her.

Revelling in all the attention, Tin-Tin slipped her arm through Brains' and together they walked past the waiting queue as the doorman ushered them through the VIP entrance. A beaming smile from Tin-Tin would have been reward enough, but he was more than happy to pocket the money Brains handed him, once again wondering how on earth a man like him had managed to get a girl like that. Must be rolling in it, he thought. Then again, the tip hadn't been _that_ generous. Shaking his head, the man went back outside, his eyes scanning the queue for potential troublemakers. It all looked peaceful enough. Still, with the threatening phone calls his boss had been getting lately as his gambling debts were called in - debts the man didn't seem to have a hope of paying - it was best to stay alert...


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to everyone who responded to the last chapter - I really do appreciate it._

Chapter Two

The club, appropriately named _Underground_ , was on the site of an old tube station, abandoned several years ago when a new link had been built. Two years ago it had been converted into a nightclub, quickly becoming popular. At ground level there was no hint of the activity beneath, but as they descended in the elevator, the pounding of the music gradually became louder. Tin-Tin smiled, already beginning to sway in time to the beat, but Brains just gritted his teeth and wondered how long he'd be able to stand it.

It was worse when they got into the lobby. Tin-Tin loved it, of course, but Brains just found himself longing for the peace and quiet of his lab. No flashing lights or red carpet there. He'd forgive the place for its fake palm trees, though, fondly reminded of the ones lining Thunderbird Two's runway.

Delighted to spot an empty table, he darted over to it, refusing to budge when Tin-Tin failed to follow him, instead beckoning him towards the dance floor. She obviously wasn't surprised when she failed to persuade him. Instead, she signalled that she was going to the bar.

It took her a lot less time to get served than it did most of the other people. If a bright smile didn't persuade someone (some _man_ , that was) to let her in front of them, a sharp elbow to the ribs or a stiletto to the foot would do the trick. She was quickly served - a cocktail for her and a beer for Brains. Ignoring the man who tried to chat her up as she paid, she made her way back to her friend.

When she returned to the table Brains was still wearing his coat. Slipping into the seat beside him, she insisted he take it off.

"Put it in the cloakroom," she suggested.

Brains did as he was told. There was no queue-jumping for him and it was ten minutes before he got back to the table, unsurprised to see a strange man had taken his place. Quickening his pace as Tin-Tin gave the man a dazzling smile before leaning in closer, he relaxed when the man's face fell and he got up, disappearing quickly into the crowd.

"Thank goodness you're back," Tin-Tin told him. "That's the third man I've had to see off. " Not that she minded the attention, after all, it did a girl good to know that she was attractive, but she didn't want anyone other than Alan.

She sipped her cocktail before frowning at Brains, reaching out to push his beer closer. "Come on, Brains. It's your night off, remember."

Brains sighed and took a tiny sip. He didn't really like drinking. He'd occasionally have a beer with the Tracy brothers, but really only to be sociable on those occasions when they dragged him out of his lab and insisted he relax for a while. They thought he'd invented his much-appreciated concoction which instantly neutralised the effects of alcohol for them, ensuring they'd always be ready to set off on an International Rescue mission however much they'd drunk, but in fact, he'd done it for himself. The others didn't know it, but even one beer made him feel ill.

If only he'd thought to bring some of the stuff with him to London, but he hadn't expected to need it.

But need it he did. Tin-Tin had decided that if she was ever going to get Brains onto the dance floor - and as a member of International Rescue she wasn't one to shy away from a challenge, even one as seemingly insurmountable as this - the only way to do it would be after a few drinks. Not that Brains was making it easy, taking his time over his beer the way he was.

"Drink up!" she insisted. "I'm ready for another one." She started to rise to her feet, but Brains got up first.

"I'll go," he told her, and was gone before she could stop him.

Resigning herself to a lengthy wait, she passed the time by looking around. This place was such a contrast to what she was used to on Tracy Island. Not just the décor and the music, but the people, too. A young couple locked together in a corner made her smile and once more she found herself missing Alan. She'd have been tempted to call him but she'd left her communicator in the hotel safe - it didn't exactly complement her outfit - and anyway, he'd probably throw a fit if he knew she was in a club without him. He'd just go on and on about Brains not being able to protect her from unwelcome attention, ignoring her protests that she was more than capable of protecting herself.

Something it seemed she was going to have to do once again as another man approached her. She'd seen him as she'd come in, surrounded by a large group of giggling girls who seemed totally fascinated with whatever he'd been saying. He'd winked at her then, much to the girls' obvious annoyance, but she'd ignored him. Pity he hadn't got the message. Oh well, it would pass the time until Brains got back from the bar. Shooting a quick glance in that direction she could see he still had a while to wait until he got served.

"You're gorgeous," the man said, slipping into Brains' seat and leaning closer towards her than the loud music suggested he needed to.

Well, a girl couldn't take offence at a compliment like that, so Tin-Tin decided to let him down gently. Unlike the last one, at least he hadn't come out with some corny chat-up line that even Grandma Tracy would have found dated, even if the American accent he affected seemed to be less than genuine.

"Thank you," she said, though there was no smile for him.

Pausing long enough for her to return the compliment, but completely unfazed when she didn't, the man leaned in again. "I'm Blake. Do you want to dance?"

Tin-Tin did, but not with him. She shook her head. "Sorry. My boyfriend doesn't like me dancing with other men."

She was hoping that would deter him, but instead he glanced over at the bar, then asked, " _That_ guy's your boyfriend? Seriously?"

Poor Brains, Tin-Tin thought. She'd put money on him being a far better person than most of the men in this place, this idiot especially. So what if he wasn't the most prepossessing to look at?

Instead of informing the man that Brains was just a friend and her real boyfriend was thousands of miles away, she just smiled enigmatically.

"You can do better than that," the man insisted.

"You mean with someone like you?" Tin-Tin was bored now, wondering what killer put-down she could come up with to get rid of him.

"Sure. What does your guy do?"

Definitely a fake accent, Tin-Tin thought. What had started out as a Texan drawl had now migrated in the direction of New York.

"He's a scientist."

"Yeah? Not very exciting."

"So what do you do?" _Come on_ , she thought. _Give me some ammunition here._

The man smiled, leered at her, then moved in again, this time so close that her eyes watered as she was hit full force with the scent of his aftershave. "I _could_ tell you..."

"But you'd have to kill me? That's really the best you can do?" Her tone was downright unfriendly now - hopefully he'd get the message.

"Honey, I couldn't kill you. That's not how we do things in International Rescue."

Well that got Tin-Tin's attention alright! It was no surprise that men used that as a chat-up line. Alan and John often delighted in entertaining the Tracy Island crew with some conversations they'd recorded up on Five - the satellite was programmed to pick up any mention of IR or the Thunderbirds, and claiming membership of the organisation certainly seemed to be a favourite way for men to try to impress women. She enjoyed it when the woman in question challenged the man, quickly picking holes in his story. It was less funny when the line seemed to be successful and she often wondered how the woman felt when she realised she'd been duped.

"You're impressed, I can see," Blake told her.

Tin-Tin forced herself to look serious. "I'm not sure I believe you. I mean, isn't International Rescue supposed to be a secret organisation? I'm sure it must be against the rules to announce yourself like that."

Blake laughed. "I'm International Rescue, darlin'; I _make_ the rules. Anyway, for a girl as beautiful as you -" the accent was pure Grandma Tracy now - "I'd risk anything."

Shooting a look at the bar - Brains had actually reached it by now - Tin-Tin decided to play along.

"So what do you fly?" she asked. As if she couldn't guess the answer.

The man preened. "Thunderbird One. Numero uno. The fastest bird in the fleet."

"But don't you have to wait around till the green one arrives? Isn't that the most important?" An ongoing argument between Scott and Virgil, of course. She'd always kept herself neutral - Alan would sulk if she expressed a preference for anything other than Three - but she couldn't help seeing Virgil's side of it.

The man pouted. "But without me how would he know what to do?"

Tin-Tin refused to be impressed."You know, anyone can say he's a Thunderbird pilot."

Blake pushed up his sleeve and showed her a watch which seemed to be equipped with every gadget known to man. It had twice as many buttons as the standard IR issue communicator, that was for sure.

"Very impressive. Do I get a demonstration?"

"Not in here. But if we were to go somewhere a little more private..." Blake shifted so he could slide an arm around her. Tin-Tin shook it off.

"Not good enough. You could be anyone."

Blake pulled out his wallet, flipped it open and pulled out a card. "This good enough? Blake Winchester, International Rescue, at your service."

Tin-Tin took the ID card curiously. If she hadn't known it was a fake she might well have been convinced. The IR logo was there and as she moved it, a hologram showed Thunderbird One moving from vertical to horizontal flight. She'd never seen anything like this before. Maybe she should find out more about this man just in case Penny needed to get involved. After all, a fake International Rescue ID could be used for more than seducing women...

A shadow came over the table and Tin-Tin looked up, expecting to see Brains. But it was a man she'd never seen before and he was clearly more than a little the worse for wear, swaying as he reached out to clap Blake on the shoulder.

"Gary! How are you, mate? Long time no see."

Blake shrugged the hand away, doing his best to ignore the man. Tin-Tin smiled. So it wasn't just his ID that was fake.

"You're mistaking me for someone else, sir," Blake - or Gary - insisted as his friend continued to demand his attention.

The other man laughed. "Nice accent, Gaz. I bet that impresses the girls." He leered at Tin-Tin before turning back to 'Blake'. "Does your wife know what you're up to?"

"Excuse me," Blake muttered. He got up and shoved the man away a few yards, saying something Tin-Tin couldn't hear.

Brains returned at that moment, taking his seat and placing Tin-Tin's drink in front of her.

"A-are you a-alright?" he asked. "Was that m-man b-bothering you?"

"I'm fine. But I think we should check him out." She told him about Blake's claims. "You'll have to scan this ID," she told him, handing it over. "I didn't bring any equipment with me."

Brains did as she asked, a quick and easy job using his genuine IR watch. "We n-need to know where he g-got this," he said. "D-do you know who h-he really is?"

"Leave that to me," Tin-Tin said. "Better make yourself scarce for a minute, Brains - go and tell the others what's happening."

Brains got to his feet once more, taking his drink with him. Water. Tin-Tin sighed. So much for her chances of getting him to dance with her. Although it looked like she might be dancing with an International Rescue operative after all...

Blake had finally got rid of his friend. As he turned back to Tin-Tin he did his best to change his flustered expression to one of amusement.

"Sorry about that," he said, returning to her table. "Only special people like you get to know my real identity, you know. I'm here incognito. Gave that guy a fake name last time I was in town - made up a few details just to make it seem more real. I promise you honey, there's no one else; I'm all yours."

Tin-Tin smiled as she handed him back his ID. "All part of the secrecy, I suppose?"

"Sure is." Blake smiled, though he was clearly a little surprised that she suddenly seemed to have bought into the whole deception. "It's a hard life, you know. Sometimes a guy needs to kick back a little. Tonight I get to have some fun. This time tomorrow, who knows where I'll be - or even if I'll still be alive."

"Let's have that dance," Tin-Tin suggested. "You can tell me all about it."

He did - at great length. According to Blake, the whole organisation would fall apart if it wasn't for him. Rescues that she'd taken part in herself were retold with Blake the hero of all of them. Tin-Tin didn't find it funny, though, not when she remembered the dead and the injured, the horrible sense of failure when the 'birds arrived too late to make a difference. Blake didn't seem to have considered that side of it at all. She supposed not many people did. Still, it kept him occupied whilst she did what she had to do.

Parker had taught them all a few useful skills during his visits to Tracy Island and Tin-Tin managed to slide Blake's wallet - hopefully containing some genuine ID - out of his pocket without him being aware of the fact. Now all she needed to do was hand it over to Brains for checking and keep Blake occupied until she could give the wallet back. An easy job, if not the most enjoyable - for her, at least.

While Tin-Tin had been picking Blake's pocket, Brains had found a quiet corner and contacted John. He'd been pretty much ignored as he'd moved through the club, though, to his utter mortification, one man had leaned across to clap him on the back and congratulate him on his success in attracting such a beautiful woman. But for the most part he was invisible and he had no fears that anyone would overhear him, not when the music was so loud even this far away from the DJ. He could barely hear John even with his watch held right up to his ear.

John had been as intrigued as Tin-Tin when the scan of the ID had come through. Even he was impressed by its quality, and he'd forged a few documents in his time.

"Tin-Tin's right," he whistled. "Dad needs to know about this. Penny, too."

"T-Tin-Tin's t-trying to f-find out who this man r-really is," Brains told him, turning to survey the crowd in the hope of spotting his friend. The sight of her sliding her hands over the man's body didn't please him, even though he knew exactly what she was up to. Perhaps it was the way his hold on her tightened when she did it. How could Tin-Tin let him paw at her like that? If Alan knew what she was up to he'd-

"Brains? You with me?"

Blinking as he was restored to reality and rather surprised to realise that for the first time ever he was completely identifying with Alan Tracy, Brains forced himself to concentrate. Not a problem he usually had, he thought wryly.

"S-sure, John. G-give me a few m-minutes. I-I should have some m-more information f-for you."

Tin-Tin had given the hand signal which told him she had the wallet - a quick one as Blake's wandering hands needed to be restrained and with one hand holding the wallet she was already at a disadvantage. He hurried over, not to pick a fight with Blake over his treatment of his 'girlfriend' but simply to take the wallet.

But it didn't work out that way. He was just a few feet away from Tin-Tin when alarms started to go off, their high-pitched wails cutting through the music. Red lights began to flash at each exit - hard to see amongst the flashing disco lights at first, but as the music stopped and the overhead lights were turned on, they became more noticeable.

Everyone froze for a second, then there was pandemonium. No one knew exactly what the problem was, but they all had the same idea - to get out of there as fast as they could.

Some of them actually made it, pushing and shoving to get through the doors, ignoring the elevators - which appeared to have jammed, anyway - and making their way as fast as they could up the stairs. But not everyone was so lucky. The alarms suddenly became even more shrill, then a warning siren went off and there was a rumbling and rattling of some kind of mechanism. Then, slowly but surely, thick metal shutters began to descend, apparently intended to block every exit - including the stairs.

Tin-Tin and Brains knew they had no hope of escape. The dance floor was in the middle of the club and there were too many people between them and the doors. Most people jumped back, aware of the danger of being crushed as the barriers came down, but one or two flung themselves to the floor and scuttled under the ever-decreasing gap.

Finally, with a clang that made the floor shake, the shutters hit the floor. The hundred or so people left in the club looked around in bewilderment.

They were trapped.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to everyone who responded to the last chapter. Whirlgirl, it's good to know you enjoyed it. Guest, whoever's up on Thunderbird Five is going to be alerted to any mention of International Rescue in phone calls and radio transmissions in case it's a call for help - they're not just spying on random couples!_

Chapter Three

Blake had abandoned Tin-Tin and made a run for the rapidly closing doors as soon as he had realised they were likely to be trapped. _So much for the brave hero of International Rescue,_ she thought, turning to Brains with a raised eyebrow. She didn't need to say anything - she knew he'd be thinking the same thing, that the Tracy talent for finding trouble in the most innocent of surroundings seemed to have rubbed off on them. Still, it was hardly an emergency - the DJ was already apologising for the apparent malfunction and promising that the manual override system would have them free within a few minutes. It seemed that the new rail link - the one which had rendered the old tube station where the Underground now stood, obsolete - had required the diversion of an underground river which now flowed fairly close to the club. Although the likelihood of a flood was slight, safety regulations - and the insurance company - had insisted on the installation of watertight doors, just in case. Thick and heavy, they'd take a while to get open. In the meantime, a free drink would hopefully keep everyone happy.

The clubbers seemed to be taking it all in their stride. Certainly there was no panic as most people headed in the direction of the bar. Brains and Tin-Tin, however, made their way back to their table.

"Let's see what we've got," Tin-Tin murmured to Brains, handing him Blake's wallet. "I wish he hadn't made a run for it. If he's up to no good we could have dealt with it straight away."

"H-he's still h-here," Brains told her, and sure enough, when Tin-Tin turned around, she could see that Blake hadn't made it out after all, but was standing near the door with his arms wrapped tightly around a couple of girls, apparently reassuring them that everything was going to be fine.

"That's something. But who is he?" she asked.

Brains handed over a business card. "G-Gary B-Blake. Used c-car salesman."

"Well that explains why he spins such a good line," Tin-Tin said as Brains passed the information along to John. "But that ID still worries me, Brains."

"M-me too."

But it seemed that their fears were unfounded. John's response was rapid. "He's a con man," he told them. "Small-time stuff on the whole, but he did serve six months in jail for fraud. I'm alerting Penny. She can chase him up and find out where he got that ID and what he's been doing with it. Don't worry about him now, guys, just enjoy your evening."

Brains thought he'd enjoy it a lot more if he had some hope of escape. The doors were still shut, something which bothered him. They should surely have been open by now. Their table was fairly close to one of the exits and a couple of the club's staff were standing there looking somewhat puzzled. As he watched, a thick-set man in his fifties who looked out of place as a clubber but had a definite air of authority about him, came up and snapped something at the men. Clearly unhappy with their response, he slammed his fist against the door before storming away towards the other exit. The same thing happened there.

"Looks like there's a problem getting the doors open," Tin-Tin said, following Brains' gaze. "Oh well, I suppose we might as well take them up on that offer of a drink."

She was half-expecting Brains to ask for another water as she got to her feet, but instead he was still watching the owner. Something in his expression made her turn back and she saw what had got his attention. The man was walking towards the DJ now, but he didn't look angry any more. He looked scared.

"That's odd," Tin-Tin said.

"M-maybe he's c-claustrophob-bic," Brains offered.

"Running a place like this? I don't think so. But something's not right. Maybe those doors really are stuck and we're all trapped for the night."

Brains winced. "Shall I c-call International R-Rescue?" He was only half-joking.

Tin-Tin caught sight of Blake, surrounded by the same group of girls she'd noticed him with on the way in. "They're already here, remember? Oh well, I guess we'll just have to wait it out. What would you like to drink, Brains? And don't say water!"

Brains sighed. "D-do you think they'd make m-me a c-coffee?"

Tin-Tin laughed. "I'll see what I can do."

Brains sighed even more heavily as she disappeared. He wondered how much longer he'd have to endure this horror. Trapped in a nightclub... it was his worst nightmare.

Tin-Tin managed to get served fairly quickly. She'd been hoping to avoid Blake on the way back, but to her annoyance, he stepped in front of her, blocking her path as he asked her if she was alright. The girls he'd abandoned in order to speak to her hovered in the background, casting evil looks in Tin-Tin's direction.

"I'm fine," she told him, wondering if he'd missed his wallet yet.

"Sure you are. You've got me to look after you." Oblivious to her clear lack of interest, he slipped an arm around her. With a drink in each hand, Tin-Tin couldn't do much beyond try to shrug him off, but the man had a grip like a limpet. Wondering if she should just kick him in the shin and have done with it, she was about to ask him to let her go, when, to her utmost surprise, Brains appeared out of nowhere, pulling her away from Blake and insisting - with very un-Brains-like vehemence - that he get his hands off her.

Blake was clearly dumbstruck by Brains' intervention, his hand falling away and his jaw dropping as he watched them move away. Tin-Tin was hardly less surprised herself, though that feeling soon turned to annoyance.

"I could handle him myself, Brains!" she snapped. Not only had she been made to look like a helpless female who couldn't cope without a man to look after her - it was a little like some of her early dates with Alan - but Brains was hurrying her along so quickly that she was finding it difficult to walk, tottering along on her high heels and hoping she didn't turn her ankle.

"He's n-not the p-problem," Brains told her when they reached their table. "J-John called. W-we're in trouble."

Tin-Tin's anger subsided in an instant. "What's wrong?"

"I-I d-don't know yet. John asked m-me to g-get you first."

They huddled together as a very serious-looking John reappeared on the tiny vid-screen of Brains' watch.

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you guys really outdid yourselves on this one. I was monitoring the place just to be sure everything was alright and I picked up a call from the owner. Those doors didn't shut accidentally. Well, they did, but it wasn't meant to happen until tomorrow morning when the place would have been empty. The owner set it up. He's deep in debt and he's trying to scam his insurance company by destroying the club. There's a gas pipe rigged to blow. He wanted to make sure the place was completely destroyed which is why the exits are blocked and the override disabled - he didn't want the fire department getting in and salvaging anything. He's hoping that the guy who set it up just messed up the timer on the doors, but if the bomb is activated too..."

Tin-Tin was silent for a long time. Then she asked,

"How long?"

"Well, it should have happened pretty much instantaneously. I guess the fact that we're having this conversation means it's only the doors that got activated too soon."

"But you can't be sure?"

There was a long pause. "No. The guy's in a real state. He's convinced himself the man he got to rig the place is in league with the people he owes money to, that he's been double-crossed and they're out to get him. Whether or not that's true, I don't know. Look, I've notified the authorities and the 'birds are launching now - there was no way any of the guys were going to sit around with you two in trouble. Alan's in One with Scott, Tin-Tin. He didn't want to waste any time in getting to you."

Despite her plight, Tin-Tin couldn't help but smile.

"Anyway, by the time they get there the local guys will have cut through those doors so there's nothing to worry about. Sit tight and you'll be out of there soon."

"Should we confront the owner?"

"Don't worry about that for now, Tin-Tin. If he kicks up a fuss you'll just panic everyone. Anyway, he's not going anywhere. Wait till you're about to be rescued."

"We'll do that. Thank you, John."

She sat back and stared at her drink for a moment. She'd have liked nothing more than to drain it, but a clear head was needed, especially if things got nasty. Why on earth did she always end up in situations like this? All she'd wanted was a night out. Was that really too much to ask?

She turned to Brains, about to voice her thoughts. But before she could complete her first sentence she broke off, her eyes widening as she turned her head and sniffed.

"Brains, do you smell gas?"

He certainly did. The pair stared at each other in dismay.

"The b-bomb?" Brains asked, his face pale.

Tin-Tin refused to allow herself to believe that her life was about to end. "If it had gone off there would have been an explosion. Maybe the person who set it up was as bad at setting bombs as he was at using a timer. You know, it could be a trick to scare the owner into paying his debts. Maybe he was double-crossed after all."

"B-but if there's g-gas escaping..."

"I know. We have to warn people" And face the inevitable panic such a request would create.

"G-get to the d-disc j-jockey. M-make sure h-he t-tells everyone t-t-to-"

"I know, Brains. Tell John." Tin-Tin rarely interrupted her friend, knowing how self-conscious he was about his stutter, but there simply wasn't the time.

It was easy to get to the DJ. For a start the club had only half as many people in it as it had before the doors had started to close, plus the majority of those left were sitting down, enjoying their free drinks. A few groups of girls were still dancing, clearly appreciating all the extra space they had to work with. Tin-Tin had no trouble attracting the attention of the DJ either, though getting him to cooperate was a little more difficult. He simply frowned when she told him to turn off the music and make the necessary announcements, his hand hovering nervously over the off-switch.

"What are you waiting for?" Tin-Tin asked sharply.

"The boss told me to keep playing. Keep everyone happy, you know."

"Does the boss want to die in a ball of flame? Because that's what's going to happen if that gas gets ignited. Anyway, people are starting to notice it. Look at them. There's going to be chaos if you don't calm them down."

"What am I supposed to say?" he asked.

"Just give me the microphone."

The DJ did as Tin-Tin asked. He'd already been impressed by her assertiveness, but he was even more impressed at the calm way she outlined the situation (the 'gas leak', not the bomb, naturally) and advised everyone of what to do - or perhaps more importantly, not to do. He didn't know, of course, that she'd had plenty of practice in similar situations - and she'd learnt a lot from Scott, a man who definitely knew how to control a crowd.

Despite Tin-Tin's efforts to keep everyone calm, there was still a fair degree of panic. A couple of men - Blake included - flung themselves at one of the doors and tried to force it open. A pointless task, but at least it kept them occupied. The DJ finally did something useful, deciding that the slow songs he'd lined up for the end of the night might have the best kind of calming effect right now. Certainly a few couples were snuggling up, clearly deciding that if they were about to die, they wanted to go together. The few bar staff who hadn't left their posts were handing out more free drinks - and having a few themselves - apparently hoping they'd be oblivious to their fate if the worst came to the worst.

Tin-Tin left them to it. She really needed to check in with Brains - a horrible thought had struck her and she prayed that John had already alerted the authorities to this latest development - any attempts to cut through the doors would create sparks which might ignite the gas - clubbers and rescuers alike would perish. Thank goodness Alan and the others were already on their way with the equipment that would be needed to get them out of there.

Brains informed her that John was on the case and no attempt would be made to cut through the doors until International Rescue arrived. But how long would that be? Thunderbird One could make it to London in an hour, Two would take slightly longer. Did they have that long or would the 'birds arrive only in time to retrieve their bodies?

"T-Tin-Tin?"

Brains' hand on her arm startled her.

"A-are you a-alright?" he asked.

She pulled herself together. "Yes, Brains. I was just thinking... Well, you know."

Brains nodded.

"I wish there was something we could do. I can't wait to get my hands on the owner of this place..."

"M-maybe we should d-do it n-now," Brains suggested. Tin-Tin looked at him in surprise. John had told them to wait, and as much as the idea pained her, she'd accepted the logic behind it. It was unusual for Brains to be the one demanding action.

"H-he could t-tell us where the b-bomb is," Brains continued. "I-I'd like to take a l-look. There might be s-something we c-can do."

"That's true," Tin-Tin said. "Maybe we can rewire the door mechanism. Okay, let's see..." She hurried back to the DJ, returning after a short conversation. "The man's name is George Underwood. His office is through there." She indicated a small corridor, cordoned off by means of a red velvet rope.

"Let's go."


	4. Chapter 4

_I'm so sorry for the delay in posting this one. Real life again - work is full of reviews and changes at the moment so I've been preoccupied with that. Thanks to everyone for the response to the last chapter. I really do appreciate all your comments._

Chapter Four

So there they were, facing death once again on what was supposed to have been a simple chance to unwind after a successful business trip before getting back to the stresses of life in International Rescue. Tin-Tin couldn't help but wonder why this kind of thing was always happening to her and her friends. One night out, that was all she'd wanted. Apparently even that was too much to ask.

She no longer wished Alan was with her, the desire to protect him from the danger she and Brains were facing stronger than the need for the comfort he would offer her. Not that taking care of her would be his only concern, of course. He'd be leaping into action to save everyone right now, she thought, just as any of his brothers would. But there were no Tracy men to take charge; this time it was up to her and Brains.

Part of her relished the challenge. Oh, she accepted her peripheral role in International Rescue without complaint - after all, Jeff Tracy had developed the organisation with his sons in mind. She was just a late addition. A valued one to be sure, but never destined to be in the thick of the action. How many times had she sat in the lounge of the Tracy villa watching a rescue unfold and wishing she was a part of it? Well now she had total control - and the lives of over a hundred people were at stake. Suddenly the sidelines seemed the better place after all.

But there was no sense wishing for the impossible. She and Brains were going to have to handle this together. Firstly they needed to confront the owner of the club, the man whose insurance swindle had gone so spectacularly wrong that night.

The staff area wasn't that far from the table where Tin-Tin and Brains had been sitting, but even making it across such a short distance wasn't straightforward, Brains stopping to assist a man who appeared to be having an asthma attack. Hardly surprising given that the smell of gas was stronger now and many people were starting to cough as the air grew thick with fumes. Fortunately the man's condition wasn't severe and the inhaler he carried would keep matters under control - for now, at least.

Medical matters were Brains' department, and Tin-Tin could only hover nearby, willing him to hurry up. She didn't want to face the club's owner alone. Her gaze roamed around the club, settling on a girl at a nearby table who was sobbing uncontrollably. A friend was trying to comfort her. Tin-Tin recognised the second girl - she'd been with Blake earlier in the evening and had been one of those shooting venomous looks at her as she'd danced with the imposter. Tin-Tin wondered what she'd say if she knew the man she was so keen on was a liar, a con man rather than a member of International Rescue.

A moment later, Tin-Tin was wondering if she should have told the girl the truth. It seemed that the words of comfort she'd whispered to her distressed companion had included the news that one of their number was no ordinary clubber but a member of one of the most revered organisations in the world. Whether or not she'd anticipated her friend's reaction, Tin-Tin didn't know, but the girl's sobs stopped instantly and she sat up straight, scanning the club for the man she'd been told had the power to save them all.

Seconds later, everyone knew. A high-pitched squeal of "International Rescue!" precipitated her leaving her seat and shooting across the room to Blake, who was sitting in a booth 'comforting' yet another girl.

Uproar followed this announcement and people swarmed round Blake. Tin-Tin couldn't hear much in the general cacophony, but it appeared that people were demanding he _do_ something, insisting he get them out of there right that minute, or - unbelievably, given the gravity of their situation - asking for autographs or handing over phone numbers.

Tin-Tin couldn't see Blake, surrounded as he was. Not that there was anything she could do even if she wanted to. After all, how could she explain her certainty that he wasn't part of that elite organisation without giving herself away? It was a pity that the friend who'd outed him to her earlier seemed to have been one of the lucky ones who had escaped before the place was sealed shut.

On the other hand, it seemed the revelation was going some considerable way to alleviating the sense of panic that had been building up, and for that she was grateful. Even the man Brains had been helping perked up, clearly relieved to discover that the situation wasn't as bleak as it had first appeared.

"Come on," Tin-Tin whispered to Brains. "We need to get moving."

With a final check on his patient, Brains moved to join Tin-Tin. Now they were both grateful to Blake, since the burly man who had been guarding the entrance to the private area had left his post in order to find out more about any incipient rescue attempt. Tin-Tin released the rope which cordoned off the corridor and a moment later they were through. Brains activated his communicator, murmuring to John that he should listen in to the confrontation and brief the others on the outcome.

It took a moment to find their quarry, but finally, after passing a number of closed doors, they arrived outside one marked 'Manager'. Tin-Tin didn't bother knocking - anyone who acted as stupidly as this man had done didn't deserve that courtesy as far as she was concerned. Instead she barged in, Brains close behind her, only to pull up in surprise as she took in the scene in front of her.

George Underwood was standing precariously on a chair, tugging at one of the panels that lined the ceiling. A couple more already lay on the floor. The man was apparently unaware of his visitors, cursing as he muttered, "Where is it? Where _is_ it?"

Brains glanced at Tin-Tin then stepped forward, stopping at Underwood's desk which was almost covered by a large sheet of paper - architect's plans by the look of it. Brains assumed he was searching for the bomb . But that didn't make sense: the smell of gas was much fainter here - surely the broken gas line had to be in the club.

Time to tackle Mr Underwood, he thought, and reached out to tap the man on the back of his leg.

A yelp of surprise greeted this action and Underwood nearly fell off his chair. A dusty head and shoulders appeared and he stared at Brains and Tin-Tin in surprise. For a moment no one moved, then, with one last longing look at the ceiling, Underwood climbed down.

With trembling hands, he reached for a half-empty bottle of some dark liquid which stood on a filing cabinet and took a large gulp before asking his visitors,

"Did Gallagher send you?"

"Is he the man you owe money to?" Tin-Tin asked, remembering John's account of the panicked phone call Underwood had made as he'd realised that everything had happened too soon, expressing his fear that the person he'd charged with the task of destroying his club had sold him out to his creditors.

Underwood frowned, taking this reply to his question as a negative. But any relief he might have felt was clearly tempered with confusion.

"So who are you?" He shifted his chair back to the desk, slumping down in it and making to reach underneath the desk. Tin-Tin guessed there was an alarm there, used to alert security if anyone breached the sanctity of his private space. Darting forward, she grasped his arm before he could press the button, fingers pressing into muscle in a simple but effective move her father had once taught her.

George Underwood whimpered as every nerve in his arm sang. " Who are you?" he asked once again.

"Oh, we're just a couple of innocent people who've got caught up in this scam of yours," Tin-Tin told him. "Like the hundred or so others out there."

Underwood just stared at her. "S-scam?" he asked, weakly.

"We know what you planned," Tin-Tin told him. "The bomb, the insurance swindle... What we don't know is whether or not that gas line is still going to blow. Where's the bomb?"

Underwood shook his head, clearly unwilling to incriminate himself. "I d-don't know what you're talking about."

Brains wondered if the man's stammer was natural or simply the result of fear. He left Tin-Tin to interrogate him, deciding it would be a lot easier that way. Instead, he turned his attention to the blueprints he'd noticed earlier.

As Brains pulled the paper towards him, Underwood made an inefficient grab for it, nearly spilling some of his remaining drink as he did so. He took another swig from the bottle before turning back to Tin-Tin, all the fight gone from him.

"Are you the police?"

"No, I told you, we're ordinary members of the public who were trying to have a night out." _Just one,_ she thought bitterly. _One night, that's all I asked for..._ "It doesn't matter how we know, just take our word for it that we do. What's important is that we do something about it."

Underwood dropped his head. "I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt."

"Well, so far they haven't," Tin-Tin said. "But if there's an explosion we've all had it. You need to help us out. Is the bomb here?"

She indicated the ceiling, though like Brains, she was somewhat puzzled as to why there was so little gas in the office if the broken pipe was nearby.

"I don't know!" Underwood practically wailed. "I thought it was up there -" he waved agitatedly at the ceiling. "But those plans don't make any sense."

Brains spoke for the first time. "You h-had them u-upside down."

"Did you find anything helpful, Brains?" Tin-Tin asked as Underwood buried his head in his hands.

"T-two things, actually," Brains told her, spreading the plans out on the desk. "The g-gas pipe runs through th-here." He indicated the back wall of the club, very close to the table where they'd been sitting. "B-but look at this."

Tin-Tin followed the line Brains was tracing with his finger. "A ventilation shaft."

"Which l-leads to an access t-tunnel for the old t-tube station."

"What?" Underwood made a grab for the papers but Brains pulled them away before he could get his hands on them.

"So there's a way out?" Tin-Tin asked, barely able to keep the excitement out of her voice.

"I b-believe so."

"Finally some good news. What do you want to do?"

"You t-take a l-look at the tunnel," Brains told her. "I w-want to check out that g-gas l-leak."

"Okay." She turned her attention to Underwood. "You'd better come with us. I don't want to waste time arguing with your staff when we start pulling this place apart."

Underwood shook his head. "I'm not going out there. Some of the staff already think I had something to do with this."

"Then we'll tell the rest of them what you did - and the people who came here for a simple night out - and they can all come in here!" she snapped.

Underwood paled and got to his feet, swaying a little. Tin-Tin pulled the bottle out of his hand, then, with Brains' help, steered him towards the door.

"You really think we can get out of here?" Underwood asked as they moved back down the corridor.

"Maybe. There's no way of knowing if the way is clear till we get into that tunnel and have a look."

" _Tunnel?_ You found a way out?"

Underwood was too drunk to offer much of a reaction, but Tin-Tin and Brains jumped a mile as a door which had been ajar opened fully and a figure leapt out to block their way.

Blake.

"What are you doing here?" Tin-Tin asked once she'd recovered from the shock. "I thought your fan club was keeping you occupied."

Actually, Blake really had had enough of his admirers. Stories of past heroics weren't cutting it anymore and people were putting more and more pressure on him, demanding he get moving and do something about this situation. He'd given himself some space by informing them that he needed to contact his team, and for that he needed privacy. He'd got it, but he knew that at least thirty people were hovering at the entrance to the staff area, waiting to pounce on him the moment he reappeared. How he was going to keep up his pretence, he didn't know - he wasn't just exhausted from the effort of all the lies, like everyone else, he was also in fear of his life.

Of course, he wasn't about to tell Tin-Tin that, not after what he'd just heard. "Just checking in with the International Rescue base. But never mind that. You found a way out? Good work, honey. Now why don't you tell me all about it?"

Tin-Tin had every intention of ignoring Blake. However, George Underwood, hearing the magic words 'International Rescue', had been so overwhelmed, despair turning to relief and delight (two emotions he'd feared he'd never experience again) that he immediately started babbling. It wasn't a particularly coherent account - in fact, the only thing that really made sense was his gratitude to the hero of IR for being there to save the day, but it was enough for Blake to sling an arm around his shoulders and draw him away from Tin-Tin. He'd just been handed the chance of a lifetime - he'd not only escape with his life, but he'd keep up his pretence and as a result enjoy the attentions of a score of very grateful girls. And who knew what other opportunities would come his way as a result of this?

"Come on then, sir," he said, hustling Underwood away from a stunned Tin-Tin and Brains. "Let's go save the day."


	5. Chapter 5

_I'm so sorry for the delay in updating. Work has had to take priority in a big way lately and I've not had the time to focus on writing. Thank you to everyone who's stuck with the story._

Chapter Five

It was Tin-Tin who recovered first, hurrying after Blake and George Underwood as fast as her tight skirt and high heels would allow. Not for the first time that evening she wished she'd worn something a little more practical. Still, it didn't really matter as any second now Brains would overtake her.

Wouldn't he...?

Apparently not.

Glancing round in exasperation, wondering if the man was exhibiting his usual awkward brand of chivalry, Tin-Tin saw he was still at the far end of the corridor, apparently engaged in a conversation with John, given the way he held his watch up to his face.

Well she just hoped John had some good news for them, because Blake had emerged into the club and was already halfway through a triumphant announcement about an escape route. Tin-Tin could only watch as he was surrounded by relieved and excited clubbers, all congratulating him on his discovery and assuring him that they'd always had faith that International Rescue would save the day.

Too right, Tin-Tin thought. And it was about time they did! Though if things hadn't been so serious she'd have been fascinated to see how Blake would handle the situation if he was left to get on with it himself.

"Where is this tunnel?" someone asked.

Blake turned to Underwood who had been standing there awkwardly all this time, unable to move thanks to the vice-like grip Blake had kept on his arm. "Sir?" he asked.

Underwood shrugged. "Ask her," was his only response as he inclined his head back towards Tin-Tin.

A somewhat surprised Blake released Underwood immediately and reached out for Tin-Tin, who managed to move quickly enough to avoid his grasping fingers. Not that she could get very far, though, since the horde which had been surrounding Blake now converged on her. It was something of a relief when Blake ordered them back, an order they obeyed without question, clearly awe-struck by the presence of one of International Rescue's finest.

"Come on, honey, don't be shy," Blake told her, sliding an unwelcome arm around her. "Where's this tunnel?"

"Up there."

Blake, who had been looking downwards all this time, followed Tin-Tin's gaze. "Up...?" There was a definite waver in his voice as he surveyed the high ceiling of the club. "He said it was a tunnel. Tunnels go down."

"It does go down," Tin-Tin told him. "Down from the street."

"Oh."

He'd gone decidedly pale and Tin-Tin couldn't help but smile. "Scared of heights?" she murmured.

"No!" Blake's reply was quick, but his response didn't hold any real conviction.

"No," Tin-Tin agreed. "After all, how could a member of International Rescue be scared of heights? So, come on, then. What are you waiting for?"

"A ladder, of course." He turned to the owner. "Any ladders here, sir?"

Underwood shook his head. "Just a stepladder. It won't be high enough."

"Dammit!" Blake might have sounded suitably frustrated, but he certainly wasn't fooling Tin-Tin.

"I thought International Rescue didn't give up."

"Honey, I'm off-duty, remember? I don't have my gear. If I did, I'd strap on a hoverpack and be up there in a nanosecond. But I'm not superhuman, whatever people might think." He paused to wink at a couple of nearby girls. "No ladder, no way out. We'll just have to wait for help to arrive. Believe me, babe, no one's more frustrated about that than yours truly."

"We could climb up," Tin-Tin suggested, a sly gleam in her eye.

"No ladders. Remember what the man said?"

"We don't need a ladder. Look, those palm tree go almost right up to the ceiling - they're only plastic, but I think they'll hold our weight." Not that she wanted Blake around, but she couldn't resist the opportunity to show him up in front of his army of deluded admirers. Well, if he was going to endanger the good name of IR, he deserved everything he got as far as she was concerned.

"Ah, well, I might have a problem there..."

As Tin-Tin had expected, Blake wasn't up to it. But as he raised his voice to make sure everyone heard his next words, it seemed she'd underestimated his ability to lie his way out of any situation.

"The thing is, I hurt my back a few days ago. I was rescuing a baby from a burning building. Had to jump for it. Little Timmy made it without a scratch, which is all that matters, but I wasn't so lucky. A few bumps and bruises are all in a day's work, but they were enough to put me out of action."

A couple of girls took it upon themselves to offer comfort to the wounded hero, stroking his head and back and glaring at Tin-Tin for daring to doubt his bravery. Rolling her eyes, Tin-Tin decided she'd just have to get on with it herself.

At least, she would have if her outfit had offered her any chance of making the climb. Sighing - she'd already marked this one down as one of her favourites - she surveyed the other girls.

A few minutes later she was more practically dressed in a loose jumpsuit and a pair of sparkly but relatively flat shoes. The girl she'd swapped with hadn't put up much of an argument, realising she'd got the best of the bargain by far. Tin-Tin's shoes alone had cost more than she made in a month.

Emerging from the ladies' room after possibly the quickest change of her life, Tin-Tin ran into Brains. He was carrying his coat.

"We're not out yet, Brains," she muttered. "Though I appreciate your optimism."

"I w-wanted this," Brains announced, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a min-toolkit. Tin-Tin couldn't help but smile - it was so typically Brains to bring something like that to a nightclub. Certainly the small flashlight he handed her would make the task of locating the tunnel a whole lot easier.

"Are you going to look at that gas line?" she asked.

"Y-Yes. The s-smell is s-stronger now." As if to prove his point he broke into a spasm of coughing. He wasn't the only one either - several of the others appeared to be struggling as the air grew increasingly polluted. "I-I'd like to be sure w-we're not in m-more trouble than w-we r-realise."

"Trouble? What's going on now?" It was Blake. The man had clearly bounced back from the embarrassment of being incapable of helping with the escape bid. With a hundred people watching him, he'd clearly decided that he needed to be involved somehow, even if it was just throwing his weight around and getting in the way. "Who are you guys, anyway? The owner said you just showed up and took over."

"Doesn't matter," Tin-Tin said, wondering what he'd say if he realised he was in the presence of the real International Rescue. Maybe once they were out of this she'd tell him, just to see the look on his face. It was yet another incentive to get on with the job - as if escaping certain death wasn't reason enough!

Blake was reluctant to let it drop, however, staring from one to the other, his eyes narrowing as he tried to work this unlikely couple out. Brains watched him uneasily, wondering if the man might be about to put two and two together.

"I-I g-guessed there m-might be a t-tunnel," he announced, much to Tin-Tin's surprise. "I study o-old underground m-maps. For a h-hobby."

Blake couldn't help but smirk. "Yeah, I guess you probably do," he said. Moving closer to Tin-Tin, he muttered. "Seriously, babe, what are you doing with him?"

Tin-Tin paused for a moment, resisting the temptation to punch him, then turned to him with a dazzling smile. "You know, I really have no idea. Tell you what, I'll ditch him. Now how about you and me go and climb that tree?"

That was all it took for Blake to back off. "I told you, honey, I'm out of action."

"Well _I'm_ not. Now get out of my way. I've wasted too much time already." Pushing her way through to the palm tree she'd found so amusing earlier, she began to shinny her way up the trunk, pleased to find that the ridged surface gave her plenty of hand and footholds. Less than a minute later she was balanced on top and pushing at the ceiling panel above her head. It was an easy matter to move it aside and Tin-Tin quickly hauled herself up, disappearing from view.

Blake had watched with a mixture of admiration and annoyance. Who _was_ this woman? Not only had she failed to fall for his carefully crafted lies, but she was also far too ready to get into the action herself. Blake really didn't like independent women. A shame, as she was easily the most stunning thing he'd seen in a while.

His gaze falling on Brains, he shook his head in bewilderment. How on earth were they together? And what was he doing right now, anyway? Any red-blooded male would have been captivated by Tin-Tin's athleticism as she'd made easy work of the climb, but this man... Instead of enjoying the show and taking the opportunity to make every other man in the place jealous, he was...

What exactly _was_ he doing?

Brains had made his way to the other end of the club, back to where he and Tin-Tin had been sitting earlier. Coughing more often now, he paused for a moment, then took out his toolkit, selected a gadget and, after scanning a section of the wall, began removing one of the panels. Glancing round, confident that all eyes were on Tin-Tin - or at least the hole in the ceiling through which she'd disappeared, he set the panel aside and peered into the space.

"Ah-h-ha..." It was just as he'd feared. The gas pipe was hanging at an odd angle, the seal on one of the joints broken. But if that had been the only problem he wouldn't have worried too much. No, it was the small device strapped a little further along the pipe which concerned him.

It seemed that there were two elements to the planned gas explosion. The first, the one which, along with the sealing of the doors, had already taken place, was the damage to the pipe which would allow the release of gas into the club. Then, it seemed, once the place was full of fumes, a small explosion - all that would be needed - would ignite the gas and the whole place would be instantly destroyed. That second explosion would be triggered by the bomb which was merrily ticking away even as he watched it. The numerical display was hidden from his view, but yellow lights flashed rhythmically.

Well, at least they weren't red, Brains thought. Then they really would be in trouble. He wondered how long much time the bomber had allowed for the gas to escape. Already, over thirty minutes had passed since the doors had begun to shut. If Brains had been planning this, he'd have allowed at least an hour to make sure the job was done properly. After all, it wasn't as though anyone was likely to smell the gas and come to investigate, not this far below the London streets - and all this had been supposed to take place in the early hours of the following morning, when few people would be around anyway. No, they should still have time.

Should...

With hands that shook just a little, Brains reached out to the timer, hoping he'd be able to turn it round so that he could see the display. He wasn't exactly a pessimist, but years of association with the Tracys had taught him that if something could go wrong, it usually did. Actually, when a Tracy was involved, he thought wryly, even the most innocent of scenarios could develop into a life and death situation. The family's luck had obviously rubbed off on him and it wouldn't have surprised him if the countdown was nearing zero.

But it wasn't. In fact, there was another forty minutes to go. Plenty of time to get out. Even if Tin-Tin couldn't gain access to the tunnel, International Rescue would have them out of there long before the bomb went off. John had told him the 'birds were just twenty minutes away. Finally something was going their way.

He'd just allowed himself to relax a little when a hand clapped him forcefully on his back, nearly sending him tumbling through the hole in the wall.

"What you got there then, buddy?"

Startled by Blake's sudden appearance, Brains' hand, which still rested on the bomb, slipped. All it took was the press of a button he really hadn't wanted to touch, and suddenly those yellow lights turned red.

A shrill beep echoed around the club as the numbers on the timer changed.

They no longer had forty minutes.

They had ten.


	6. Chapter 6

_Once again I have to apologise for the delay in posting - real life, specifically work, has (unfortunately) taken over lately. This might be the last story for a while as things are likely to be busy for some time yet and I hate leaving big gaps between updates. I've still got plenty of ideas and hopefully I'll get the chance to put them into words soon. A big, big, thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed this one and once again, I'm sorry it's taken so long to complete. Whirlgirl, a special thanks to you, I love reading your feedback and I appreciate it more than I can say. Bee_

Chapter Six

Brains could only stare at the timer as it continued its relentless countdown towards zero. If he'd been a different kind of man he might have taken the opportunity to relieve some of the fear and frustration he was feeling by taking a swing at the person who'd just made a bad situation a whole lot worse, but, he reasoned, what good would that do? Blake hadn't known what was at stake when he'd disturbed Brains as he checked out the bomb. Whatever his faults, ultimately he was just a man hoping for a good night out, just as all the others had been a short time ago. Not Brains himself, of course - his objective had simply been to get out of the place as quickly as possible.

That at least hadn't changed, but Brains knew his chances of success were minimal. He should tell John what was going on, say his goodbyes whilst he could...

"What's wrong?" Blake was a con man to be sure, but he was a good one, highly-skilled in the art of reading faces and body language. The sudden tension in the back and shoulders of the man in front of him hadn't gone unobserved. He reached out to grab Brains' shoulders and pull him away, then let his hands drop as a ripple of excitement ran through the crowd of people who were staring up at the ceiling watching the hole through which Tin-Tin had disappeared.

Swinging round, he watched as the girl lowered herself down through the ceiling panel and nimbly clambered down the plastic palm tree.

Coughing as she breathed in a lungful of gas - the fresh air of the ventilation shaft had been more than welcome - she announced that there was indeed a way out, a statement greeted with cheers from everyone, including Blake. Forgetting Brains for a moment, he headed across to hear what she had to say.

"There's an access tunnel alright," Tin-Tin informed them. "The only trouble is that the cover's screwed down. But if we can get it open we can make our way through and into the old tube station."

Blake saw a chance to regain a little dignity, still smarting after the humiliation of being unable to scale the palm tree. "Where do your maintenance guys keep the tools, Sir?" he asked loudly, striding over to George Underwood.

Whilst Underwood pondered this, Tin-Tin moved over to Brains. "Can I have the..." The hand she was holding out to receive Brains' toolkit dropped as she registered the expression on his face.

"What's happened?"

Brains' stutter was always worse when he was stressed. He didn't have the time to explain in words, so he simply stood aside and pointed at the timer.

They had just over seven minutes. It wasn't nearly enough.

"Oh, Brains..."

Brains had never admired her more than he did in that moment. A lesser person would have given up, but not Tin-Tin.

"Give me that toolkit!" she ordered. "We can save some of them. There's nothing you can do about that thing?"

Brains shrugged. He'd defused bombs before - or at least, he'd given instructions from the safety of the lounge on Tracy Island whilst someone else did the job - but he wasn't sure he could do anything with this one. For a start, it was so haphazardly constructed, with wires trailing everywhere, that he doubted the person who had set it would have followed any of the usual rules.

"I-I'll t-t-try."

Tin-Tin gave him a hopeful smile before dashing back to the others, immediately issuing instructions to some of them, sending a couple up the palm tree and through the ceiling, along with the toolkit, then getting a few more to help organise the others into an orderly line. Blake would have been useful right then - people still believed him to be a member of International Rescue and automatically did what he said - but typically, he'd disappeared. But at least it meant she could get the job done with no distractions. Those who admitted to a fear of heights or had some other reason why climbing might be a problem, were sent to the back of the queue, something which would condemn them to certain death - not that they knew that, of course. Not for the first time the girl wondered how Scott Tracy could make triage decisions like this on almost a daily basis yet still sleep at night. Well, her conscience wouldn't be plaguing her about this one, that was for sure - she wasn't even _in_ the queue. She wouldn't be alive to regret anything.

She guessed they had about five minutes left. If only she could talk to Alan one last time...

"We're in!" The cry came from one of the men she'd sent to get the tunnel open and people began to make their way up to safety. Satisfied that the escape attempt was going as well as it possibly could, she made her way back to Brains.

"Any luck?" she whispered, resting a calming hand on his back.

Brains shook his head. He paused for a moment in whatever he'd been doing and slipped his watch off his wrist, passing it back to Tin-Tin.

"Thank you." Tin-Tin gripped his hand for a moment, then moved away to a quiet corner, trying to find the words to express what she was feeling right now.

It seemed Alan didn't have the words either and they simply stared at each other for a long moment. Finally Tin-Tin drew in a deep breath, but just as she was about to speak, the unwelcome sound of Blake's voice echoed around the club.

"There's a _bomb_?"

It seemed George Underwood hadn't just told him where to find the tool box... Tin-Tin cursed both men as panic broke out amongst those who up till now had been waiting patiently for their turn to leave. As the hitherto orderly line disintegrated and people charged towards the only means of escape, she gave Alan one last sad smile before reluctantly breaking the connection and making what turned out to be a futile effort to calm things down.

"Did you have to tell him?" she snapped at Underwood, who at least wasn't adding to the chaos, being too unfit to even contemplate trying to scale the palm tree.

"He's International Rescue!" Underwood protested. "I thought he'd help, not..." Words failed him as he watched Blake knock a girl to the ground as he clambered awkwardly up the palm tree.

Tin-Tin didn't bother replying, instead heading back to Brains who was also watching the mayhem.

"Any luck?" she asked.

"N-no."

"How long?"

Brains held up two fingers, tried to smile and failed miserably. Tin-Tin reached for his hand and clutched it tightly.

A shout rang out amongst the screams and curses that had filled the room ever since Blake had started the panic. Sure enough, it was the man himself, protesting as someone prised his hands away from the branch he was clinging to - he'd made it about a third of the way up the tree before freezing. Running out of patience, the man behind him shoved him out of the tree before continuing on his way. Blake hit the ground and lay there breathing heavily for a moment before rolling away to avoid being trampled underfoot by those still hoping to escape.

Brains turned back to the timer, unwilling to witness the fear and distress of the others. Thirty seconds. Was his life really over? It had been a good one - well, it had once he'd met the Tracys. At least he'd accomplished some wonderful things. The Thunderbirds would continue to fly, and for that he could be proud.

Twenty seconds...

Ten...

Tin-Tin gripped his hand even more tightly. "I'm sorry I got you into this," she whispered.

"I-I'm sorry I c-couldn't get y-you out," he told her.

Five...

Four...

Three...

Two...

Would he be aware of it? Would it hurt? Was there anything after this? Would he and Tin-Tin be together if there was?

One...

Brains closed his eyes as the timer clicked over to zero.

A few seconds later he opened them again.

"Brains...?" Tin-Tin's voice was barely a whisper.

He looked at the timer.

Zero.

"Is it...?" Tin-Tin still seemed incapable of forming a sentence.

Brains didn't dare touch anything. "I-I d-don't know," he answered. "M-maybe it's a d-dud. Or who-whoever set it d-didn't d-do it r-right."

"Well they messed up everything else," Tin-Tin said. Suddenly she seemed to realise she was still clutching Brains' hand. Releasing it, she murmured something about making sure they took advantage of whatever extra time they had, moving back to the rapidly diminishing group of people still waiting for the chance to leave and doing her best to help them.

Brains reported back to John, both embarrassed and delighted at the cheers that greeted the news of their survival.

"One's already landed," John told him. "Two will be there any minute now."

By the time Scott and Alan appeared in the club only a handful of people were left. Blake was amongst them, a second attempt to scale the tree having proved as unsuccessful as the first. He'd never expected to come face to face with the real International Rescue and he frantically tried to think of some way to excuse his duplicity.

But it seemed he wouldn't need to. Everyone left was too keen to get out to waste a thought on him and the IR crew ignored him completely, apparently more concerned with getting to the girl who had so fascinated him and the strange man who accompanied her. Well, they'd been the ones to get everyone out, it was natural they'd want to talk to them.

But she was bound to tell them about him, and that couldn't bode well. He took another look at the tree. It looked just as terrifying as it had before, but surely he could do it this time...?

He couldn't.

He got about halfway before freezing, unable to move either up or down.

"Hold tight, Sir, we'll get a rope," the dark-haired IR man called, barely bothering to hide an amused smile.

The blond man wasn't concerned about him at all, all his attention focused on the girl. Well, Blake could hardly blame him. She seemed quite taken with him, too. It looked like that geek she'd arrived with was finally out of the picture. Blake couldn't even see him. He'd probably made himself scarce, not wanting to look inadequate in the presence of some real heroes.

The tree swayed a little as someone began to climb. Shaking, Blake gripped the branches even more tightly.

The climber drew level with him and Blake's mouth fell open. It was the man he'd just dismissed so scathingly. He couldn't believe it! Not only had this man got a girl Blake couldn't get, but he seemed to have a lot more physical prowess, too.

Brains smiled as he passed Blake. Heights didn't bother him and he'd undergone some basic training when IR had been set up. He didn't often do anything like this, and he could easily have waited for Scott and the others to set up a ladder, but he just couldn't help himself. The look on Blake's face...

Half an hour later it was all over. Everyone was safely evacuated from the club, Virgil and Gordon had made the place safe - the bomb had indeed been wired up wrongly and had never been in any danger of going off - and now the air was clear again and the broken gas pipe sealed. George Underwood was on his way to a police station and International Rescue were preparing to leave.

Those who had been trapped had been held until a medical team had checked them out, but there had been no ill-effects from the gas they'd breathed in and one by one they were sent on their way. Blake had kept his head down while he waited, relieved that no one was taking much notice of him now that the real International Rescue, complete with uniforms, gadgets and - best of all - the Thunderbird machines, were on the scene. He sneaked over to the park where they'd landed, desperate to get a glimpse of these incredible craft,.

That wasn't all he'd seen, though.

That girl and the International Rescue man were locked in a tight embrace, the man she'd been with originally watching from the side. Then the red-haired IR man came up and gave _him_ a hug, laughing as he said something Blake couldn't catch.

Now what was all that about?

He turned to leave - and forgot Tin-Tin immediately as he bumped into the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," she said, her voice as sensuous as her appearance. Her clothes suggested money - lots of it, in fact - and her aristocratic accent just confirmed it.

As the woman expressed her deep concern for him after the ordeal he'd just endured, insisting he allow her to take care of him, Blake thought that maybe he could salvage something from the night after all.

It seemed the woman felt the same way. "I'll just call up the Rolls," she told him. Then we can go somewhere private and, well..."

The smile she gave him nearly took his breath away. Oh yes, Blake thought, as he obediently followed her to - of all things - a pink Rolls Royce, his luck was in, alright. This could change the course of his life forever.

It did.


End file.
